


Dinner Date

by orcsmoocher



Category: Nightbound (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dinner, Gay, Gay Male Character, M/M, and cel forgets he needs to use money to pay for things, cel and nik go to a fancy dinner, money can be exchanged for goods and services, only cozy vibes allowed here, when i edit these before posting i never realize how much i use italics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orcsmoocher/pseuds/orcsmoocher
Summary: Nik Ryder and Celestine Wyndire (Formerly Kobayashi) go to dinner.
Relationships: Nik Ryder/Main Character (Nightbound), Nik Ryder/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	Dinner Date

"Zeke’s is as nice as Mrs. Polaski - and cheap, too." Nik said, browsing through a bundle of advertisements for various restaurants that he had pulled out of his mailbox. His voice was somewhat monotone and bored - a common occurrence when they weren’t on a job. Sitting around wasn’t exactly exciting, and he certainly wasn’t used to the prospect of just…  _ being _ with someone he trusted, no strings attached, no jobs or obligations. His partner, Celestine, laughed from his position at the kitchen counter. 

"Mrs. Polaski is a racist old biddy," he replied, sipping the delicately whitened coffee from the plain black mug in his hand. Polaski was a resident in the apartment above the coffee shop next door. They met often when she came down for her morning brew, always grumpy and keeping an angry eye on the half-Fae whenever he happened by… though the fact that she was as sweet as can be to the locals didn't go unnoticed.

"She's nice to me," Nik shrugged. 

"Try talking to your mum in Japanese over the phone next time you see her!" Celestine pulled his cheeks down to simulate flapping jowls and put on his best Cajun accent - which was utterly unintelligible. "This is America, ya best be speakin' English while ya here in  _ Naaawlins, _ ya chink bast-ad," Nik finally chuckled, shaking his head. "...Paraphrased, of course. I wonder why she doesn’t pick on you?"

"Must be ‘cause I grew up here,” Nik answered with a shrug. “...Imagine if she knew you were half-Fae - she'd have to invent a whole new slur," Nik’s grin grew as he laughed at his own joke. Celestine giggled, encouraging the Nighthunter to open up a little more. "Now that I think of it, nice on the outside and rotten underneath the surface kind of describes the food I got last time I went…" 

They were trying to find somewhere to go for a nice date.  _ Trying  _ being the key word. It seemed that all of their favorite mom-and-pop places had changed hands, the quality of their food dipping far below par. At that point, for many of them, foraging for mushrooms and fish scraps in the bog would still be a better investment of their time and money, but such is the life of the restaurant business. 

Celestine crossed the room in Nik's grimy apartment in four long strides, curling up in his lap on the cheap leather couch; the cushions of which had quickly become flat, hard, and cracked over the years. It was incredible that Nik didn’t care about the state of his furniture - it was cheap, whatever… but it felt like laying on a cinderblock. Whenever the Nighthunter complained of a sore back and reasoned that perhaps he had strained too much on his last hunt, Celestine simply shook his head. One of these days he’d have to recruit Cal to sneak in and haul all of his old shit out and replace it with something nice. Or at the very least, something that wasn’t actual garbage. 

Nik wrapped his arms around Celestine’s thin waist, pulling him close and flush against his front. He wore a white tank top and loose gym shorts that reached the knee, the fabric rather old and thin and permanently marked with the scent of exercise masked in vain by laundry detergent. His strong arms firmly squeezed Celestine’s middle, the half-Fae’s back pressed against the hard planes of his muscular torso. With a grin, Celestine tipped his head back and twisted his neck until he could press his lips to the Nighthunter’s cheek, the dark stubble rough and ticklish against the half-Fae’s soft skin. Nik was still vaguely damp from his shower, radiating a slight heat leftover from the steaming hot water, his chestnut brown hair mussed and unbrushed. The Nighthunter lifted his legs and laid them on top of Celestine’s long,  _ long  _ bare ones. Celestine was wearing nothing but a towel snaked limply around his waist, holding another in his arms that he used to gently dab the moisture from his body. He smelled of something floral and delicate, his skin completely unmarred barring the natural marks on his face that he usually covered with a little makeup. “You’re pretty,” Nik murmured, garnering a little chuckle from Celestine. Nik’s compliments were so simple, short, and sweet; but coming from a man of few words and even fewer romantic affections it felt like a poem of many verses. He had snark and somewhat of a natural 'charm', but genuine gestures of adoration were hard to come by.

Celestine smiled sweetly, self-consciously bringing a few fingers to his forehead to poke the large birthmark that sat just below his hairline above his left eye. It was much darker in color compared to his downright ghostly pale skin (given to him by his Fae roots, of course) and was accompanied by his freckled cheeks and numerous beauty marks. His spotty complexion was always a subject of immature teasing as a kid - and when he later pursued his passion for dancing as an adult, it came back as near-harassment from his more conventionally attractive female peers. As a result, he never left the house without at least covering the worst of it. Strangely enough, though, Nik not only accepted his flaws but seemed to find them especially  _ cute  _ \- a compliment that he wasn’t used to hearing from someone other than his close friends and mother. “Why, thank you,” He replied finally, leaning back and further melting into his partner’s embrace. 

Nik buried his nose into Celestine’s silky black hair, usually kept in a bun but now flowing freely over the cropped sides of his head. The Nighthunter felt like a damn dog, but he just couldn’t help but enjoy the half-Fae’s smells. Celestine made his own soaps from scratch, and had a sharp sense for the good stuff. His hair was impossibly soft and smelled strongly of sweet apples. Mixed with his natural musk, it was a scent that he left behind wherever he went - on the furniture, on the pillows… even in Nik’s jackets. It left Nik with feelings that he couldn’t describe properly with words, like his partner was with him even if he was gone and out of the house, or even in another Realm entirely. “You smell nice...” 

“...And?” Celestine baited, lips bowed into a smirk. Two compliments in a row - Nik must’ve been in a heavenly mood. 

“I love you.” A sigh fluttered from his lips, and Celestine looked back to see his eyes, normally weighed down by the hauntings he’s seen too much of, half-lidded and positively sparkling with warm adoration. His breaths were deep and relaxed, much unlike anything that Celestine has ever seen - why, he almost cooed at the sight before coming to his senses. 

“I love you, too,” Celestine murmured back. An idea popped into his head, flashes of fancy Fae balls and dinners with his stepmom and the Wyndire house coursing through his mind as he thought of where to go. Nik wasn't a proponent of all that fancy-shmancy stuff - but he did enjoy himself at the last Lamrian outing he was dragged to. Though Celestine feared there was nothing human-made to compare, he was sure of that - and he'd only been a part of the Fae community for a year, as snobby as that sounded. “Let’s go somewhere nice, darling.” 

That 'somewhere nice' was the stately townhouse restaurant of Upperline Street, its modest facade hiding the eclectic spread of local art, memorabilia, and modern Creole cuisine that would have been worth three months of Celestine's paycheck back in college for a single meal.

Celestine got up and rooted through the closet he shared with Nik when he was in town while the Nighthunter called to see if any seats were available - there was a good chance that they would be booked up for the next year and a half. Such is the life of the restaurant business. All of his nicest finery was in Lamrian, but surely he had something that Nik had never seen him wear before…

"Ooh," The half-Fae cooed, a familiar outfit grasped in his fingers. It was rather old, actually, but still nice as ever if it still fit. He scurried into Nik's bathroom to change. It was the tux he wore to his college graduation. For about five minutes, at least… until all the clothes were shed at the afterparty. The sleek burgundy overcoat fit snugly over his solid black button-up shirt and - for an extra unnecessary overly-formal flair - gold satin cummerbund, the color of which matched both the accents on the peak lapels of his coat and the filigree inlaid on his breast pocket. Celestine wiped off a scuff of dust off his trousers, striking a brief pose. His patent leather shoes were still new enough to squeak sharply against the tile floor, even if they needed a polish.

His outfit was a stark reminder to correct anyone who said he wasn't  _ always  _ a diva. 

The story of how he acquired such an ensemble when he was living off of white bread and ramen noodles (and not even the good brand from Katagiri) was a strange one that could be summed up in two words: Sugar momma. He danced for her bachelorette party as a sophomore, she came back after her divorce in his senior year. Nice lady - she bought him things, and he'd be her arm candy at worryingly important-looking company dinners. Whether or not she was just that lonely or she was trying to prove a point, well… he didn't ask, nor let it slip that her 'new boyfriend' was essentially an escort. Eventually, though, she found someone new - his suit was a parting gift.

Outside of the door, Celestine heard Nik shuffle back-and-forth from his room to the living room, but he paid it no mind and returned to his preening. He dabbed some concealer over his birthmark, making the executive decision to leave his freckled cheeks alone. Nik liked them, so Celestine supposed that he liked them, too. Maybe. They were… strictly tolerated. He pulled his hair into his usual topknot, pursing his lips in thought as his fingers grazed the shaven areas - they were feeling a little peach-fuzzier than normal, and he debated getting them shaved down again… but he was also thinking of growing it out. He was startled back to reality by several sharp knocks on the door. "Are you ready yet?" The gruff question made him scoff playfully, checking the watch on his wrist. He was taking quite a long while, but there was no way he was going to admit it first. 

"Yes, dear," Celestine replied, giving a final little spin in front of the mirror before swinging the bathroom door open. It was a shame that the hinges squeaked - the sound covered up the little gasp that flew from Nik's lips. His eyes were wide for just a moment, awe giving way to adoration as his mouth curved into a grin. Wordlessly, Nik offered his arm. He wore the same stormy grey suit that he always did when going to a formal event - it was the one he bought when they were searching for Cal's brother, he remembered. The half-Fae had seen it a hundred times over, but it still looked stunning every time; stretching over his broad chest and wide shoulders concealing the thick slabs of working muscle underneath. He swept himself handily into the strong embrace of his boyfriend, winding his comparatively thin arms around Nik's in a tight, inescapable wrap. 

Nik was relaxed and untensed and he drew the half-Fae in for a kiss, reluctantly raising himself up on his tip-toes in order to reach. When he pulled away, he raked his eyes one more time over Celestine's outfit. "...Just gorgeous, baby. When did you pick this up?" 

"It's not new," Celestine replied, blushing a little despite himself. He was a  _ total _ romantic - clinging to the arm of his loving boyfriend in fancy getup like they were about to strut to prom was like a dream come true. "It was my grad outfit." 

Another kiss. This time on Celestine's jaw because he wasn't expecting it, and thus hadn't angled his chin down so that Nik could have access to his lips. Shorty. "Anyway… we're real lucky, someone cancelled their reservation for eight. We better get going." 

Celestine smiled wide upon laying eyes on the interior of the restaurant. It was tastefully lit with soft yellow light, burning candles placed upon each of the polished wood tables. Classical music was pumped into the room at a romantic, low volume, and the smells… Celestine's belly made more than a few audible noises as he watched plates of food get passed around from his vantage point in front of the hostess' desk.

"Good evening, ma'am," Nik said politely as the hostess returned to her station to meet them. He bowed his head a little bit in a curt nod, and she returned the gesture. "Reservation for Nik Ryder?" 

"Of course, sir!" she chirped, long brown hair framing a wide smile set on her tanned skin. A light accent that they couldn't place graced her words. Her gaze flicked to Celestine momentarily before sticking there, her next sentence trapped in her slightly opened mouth. Under the scrutiny of his sharp Fae eyes, he then saw why as her glamor fell away before him, revealing the pointed ears and cat-like eyes of his magical kin. He smiled knowingly - he didn't recognize her, but it would be a travesty if she didn't recognize him. "Come right this way..." Lowering her voice conspiratorially, she leaned in so only the pair could hear. "Duke Wyndire." She grinned, an excited spring in her step as she turned away, herding them into the dining room like her prized sheep. 

Shortly after they were sat, they spotted the hostess whispering into the ear of the waiter that was to be serving them. Their ability to see through glamors revealed that he, too, was a Fae. He placed two glasses in front of the pair, a dark wine pouring into them with a practiced elegance. It was so deeply colored and cloudy it resembled a reddish tar, and its fruity smell was pungent. Little golden flecks swirled throughout the liquid resembling stars. " _ Thyiafeh ri'claste _ , our finest century-aged vintage." The name meant 'Summer Dragonfire' in Fae tongue. 

"Oh, thank you!" Celestine grinned, taking an eager sip and being taken aback at its strength with a long breath. His royal manners were much to be desired, but he was far from caring. Once he was used to it, the wine was fantastic - far from the delicate whites served in the palace, and mass-produced imports from the Graveyard Shift. Those were good, but this was  _ good _ \- heady, slightly floral, even spicy at the end… and of course, enough alcohol to knock out a horse. Nik gave the drink an arched look, crossing his legs under the table as he swirled the glass. He wasn't a  _ wine-guy _ , but his skepticism sure made him look just as pretentious. It made Celestine giggle. 

"What?" 

"Can you describe the flavors, my royal wine-taster?" 

Nik took a long drag of his wine. "Alcohol… and grapes," he said, grinning wryly as his eyes traveled to the menu placed in front of him. "Mm. Good, though."

They made their orders. As they waited, they talked about Things - not plans, not jobs, not bloodwraiths, not fate - just Things. Celestine's birthday was fast approaching, and he was going to bring both Kristin and his mother down for a visit - maybe even a magical one. Nik, of course, advised that maybe leading with 'welcome to New Orleans, your son is actually a magic elf now' was a bad idea. He, however, was actually pretty… well, perhaps not excited, but looked forward to meeting his partner's folks. He knew Celestine's friend - she hung around for a while before going back to New York on that fateful year - but only heard stories about Jacqueline. Countless stories. Deep down he knew that he needed to get out of his bubble and meet people, drink less, stop being so damn miserable all the time; ordered ascendingly in their difficulty and descendingly in his willingness to do something about it. Meeting his boyfriend's mother was a decent first step, he supposed. She seemed nice.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Nik asked. "Don't ask for a surprise - I don't do surprise gifts." 

Celestine pursed his lips. "I'm so terrible at  _ asking _ for gifts. Let's… let's plan something together, like a trip. That's what I'd like to do." 

Nik grinned and nodded. He had a few ideas, of course. In all of which, the pair had a long, long date with the bayou. Camps, hikes, hunts, all of the above… and some plain nature walks sprinkled in for good measure. The fact that he knew Celestine would be interested was immensely comforting - the last thing he had to worry about was his partner not having as much fun as he was. They had a surprising amount in common, actually, despite being so outwardly different. 

The scents hit them long before the plates hit the table. Their first course was delivered to them, a succulent platter of oysters and two silver bowls of a bright lemon sauce. Celestine slipped one of the morsels half-way between his parted lips and sucked the meat out delicately. Nik met his eyes, swallowing once. "If I knew any better, I'd think you're -"

"I'm what?" Celestine asked, grinning with a wink. "...I'm not." 

"Ah. So you make it a habit to make direct eye contact while sucking your food down?" 

"If coincidentally looking at you while I'm trying to eat my dinner counts as innuendo, then yes," Celestine teased, giving the now-empty shell of the mollusk a long drag of his tongue from end-to-end. "I can think of  _ nothing _ sexier than seafood, honestly. You know what really sets the mood? Fish." 

"I wouldn't put it past you, Cel," Nik replied with a grin, his thoughts floating to some of their 'special nights'. Usually they just rutted when they felt like it, but when Celestine wanted something out of the ordinary, it was usually  _ out of the ordinary _ … "The things that rock your boat? Fucking weird."

"I'll choose to take that as a compliment," Celestine shook his head playfully. "You like it, too. Degenerate." 

By the time the second course came around, they had gracefully moved on to a more appropriate table conversation. Nik recounted the tale of seeing a unicorn and its calf weaving through the cypresses - and when it was alerted to his presence, it didn't flee. In fact, he crept forward, and they stepped with their magical grace towards him until they met in the middle. "I've never felt more like a Disney princess," Nik said, the Nighthunter in his story stroking the horned, pure white horse on its long-furred snout. Seeing unicorns was a sign of good luck - though he didn't know what it meant to touch them, and especially not being trusted around its baby. Something like a concentrated super-blessing, he supposed.

Their waiter refilled their wine, and later returned to the table with two square plates both topped with steaming cuts of meat. For Nik, a warm and bloody filet mignon; for Celestine, a rack of lamb. They shared sides of cornbread and grits between them, maintaining their amicable conversation. 

Dates between them could get rather awkward in the beginning - when meeting one in life-or-death circumstances, one often learns about their deepest fears, their stresses, their most sensitive of emotions… and while that was all fine and good, there was little room left for the small nuggets of information that a normal couple would know - hobbies, interests, that sort of thing. So when things calmed down, despite feeling like they knew each other inside and out, they were still left going through the basic questions that would normally be asked on a first date like they had just met. Nik especially felt out of his element, tragically unused to such a calm and somewhat secretive about his learned experience. Now, though, it seemed he was slowly beginning to open up like a flower; a beautiful, vicious flower - a carnivorous one, perhaps, with a hobby of collecting magical antiques and medieval weaponry. "So," Nik said, his eyes alight with curiosity. "You tell me about your college experience like it was a never-ending frat party… what did you actually  _ do? _ " 

"I only tell you about the not-boring parts, dear. I graduated with a bachelor's degree in economics," Celestine replied, a somewhat wistful expression falling over his features. 

Nik raised his brows in a neutral surprise - not an expression of shock, but one that simply said 'oh. I didn't know that.' "I wouldn't've guessed." 

"Me neither, to be honest. I only did it because my  _ okasan  _ wanted me to. I would have much rathered the arts instead - dance, theater, music… anything." 

Nik stopped talking on a dime and stared for a moment - he wasn’t expecting to strike a nerve. His charge seemed so happy all the time that it was a genuine surprise to hear about a struggle in his daily life. “By that, you mean your mom, right?” Nik asked, thoughtful as he took another bite. Celestine nodded. “Was she trying to groom you to be a CEO or something?”

The half-Fae heaved a sigh, even Nik’s complete misunderstanding of the purpose of education failing to make him laugh. Memories of their meeting with the Fate floated around in his head - he’d said that he was afraid that dear Jacqueline didn’t love him as much as she claimed, and even now that seemed ridiculous. Still, the thought was there… and her ‘gentle’ encouragement on his life path was at least some sort of indication that he was just her ‘do-over life’, someone she could live through so that she could experience all the things she missed by getting pregnant. He did the things that she liked, and while she didn’t outwardly disapprove of his own passions, she didn’t support him - especially financially. He loved her to bits, but constantly working to satisfy her was exhausting. “No… she just wanted me to get a good job. Before she had me, she was studying business in Laramie; but when she got pregnant she dropped out so she could raise me. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I can’t help but feel a little - not  _ unwanted _ , but maybe she thinks she would have preferred her life not being interrupted like that?” He finally shrugged, shaking off the downcast expression on his face. “She was receptive to my hobbies, but when it counted, all of the decisions were hers. I’m too careless, so I shouldn’t stay out past four; I can’t make a career out of ballet, especially because I’m a boy… things like that.”

“Well, it’s not like it was your fault you exist. I say if she doesn’t like the choices you make, you tell her where to stick it,” Nik replied, pointing at him with his fork to accentuate his point. “She can love her boy without hovering.” 

“You should’ve seen her face when Kristin and I accidentally let my…  _ college job _ slip. She was pissed that I was dancing in a nightclub - but I think that she was most afraid for my safety more than anything, so I don’t really blame her.”

Nodding, Nik chuckled a little. “Normally college kids get jobs in supermarkets in order to make ends meet,” he replied, eager to shift slightly away from the somewhat dour topic. “What made you pick stripping, of all things?” 

“I grew up with a love of dance. I took any free community class I could get my grubby hands on - mostly line dancing, but also some ballroom, and eventually mom realized I was sticking with it and let me choose a lesson as an after-school activity to keep me busy. I chose ballet, and I only stopped because I graduated highschool and was moving soon anyway!” He smiled fondly. “Ballet is all about beauty and grace, and I really admired it as a craft. You’d be surprised as to how much work and practice goes into a single performance.” 

Nik made an  _ mm-hmm _ sound as he stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth.

“I uh… I discovered pole dancing after sneaking into a bar I shouldn’t have when I was seventeen. The girls were all so  _ pretty _ and  _ talented _ , I wasn’t even really looking at their bodies, but the technique. I was really curious and wanted to try it - and when I finally did a couple years later, my training in ballet gave me a huge head start,” Celestine shrugged with a grin. “Take the titillation and sex away and I’d still be drawn to pole dancing. It’s very fulfilling exercise.”

Nik nodded, curiosity adequately sated. They ate in amicable silence until their plates were cleared, another menu placed in front of them. The waiter refilled their wine for the second time, though he only filled the glasses halfway. Celestine's cheeks were flush, the beginnings of tipsiness. Nik sat back with a hand against his full belly. "My stomach is saying _'please_ _don't_ ' but my brain says 'yes'," the Nighthunter laughed, their third and final course on the way. 

"I'm no quitter. Let's share a slice of pie so we don't go too overboard, darling." Celestine extended a hand over the table, laying it tenderly over Nik's arm. The Nighthunter reciprocated the touch, his free hand stroking the back of Celestine's softly. His expression was somewhat dreamy, clearly somewhere else. "...I want to get married one day."

"To who?" Nik snorted, an easygoing grin stretched across his lips before melting away into a tender smile. He certainly wasn't  _ opposed _ to the idea, he supposed, but growing up he always thought the whole concept was rather pointless. A couple spends thousands to be bound together by law, only to have to leap through more hoops than a dog show hound just to separate when it crumbled… and when you spend most of your time in bars, you see a  _ lot _ of crumbling marriages - and the messy results. But maybe he was just being cynical. 

"A pretty gold-counter's daughter in House Whitevine, if a certain someone doesn't scoop me up soon," Celestine teased. It was only a half-joke, of course - if he wanted to be involved in the affairs of House Wyndire, then that meant the expectation of marriage and heirs… but that wouldn't be for a long, long time. Perhaps the half-Fae would even outlive his partner before he could be considered to take the mantle. What a horrifying thought - the prospect of having a Fae's lifespan rarely occurred to him, but when it did, it came crashing down like a wave. His long, tapered fingers squeezed Nik's arm gently, hand exuding a comforting warmth through the fabric of his suit. "...Sorry. It was just a weird thought that popped into my head - whatever you want, I want, Nik."

"I'm not ready yet," The Nighthunter answered seriously. "But… thanks. You make me so damn happy, you know that?" 

Celestine sighed contentedly, the pair staring deeply into each other's eyes as the waiter returned to them with dessert in hand. He excused himself quickly. "Mm," Celestine smiled through a spoonful of pecan pie. It was cloyingly sweet and nutty, still warm with a modest topping of cold vanilla ice cream. Nik took a bite of his own, savoring it…

"Shit," He cursed under his breath, but not in a negative fashion - in fact, the taste brought some of the childhood memories he still had to light. The good ones, at any rate. "Kinda reminds me of what my ma would make." 

"She baked?" 

"Well, I assume so," Nik said, lips pursed in thought. "People who hate baking don't tend to make pies for fun." 

"Oh, shush. You know what I mean."

Nik chuckled, a bittersweet feeling flitting in his belly. "I wish I could've known her for longer," he said with a sigh. "Having barely any memories of her and my pa - it kills me inside." he fixed Celestine with a surprisingly vulnerable look. 

"Oh, Nik…" 

Nik shook his head. "At least the ones I do have are nice," he said dismissively, desperate to change the subject. Celestine obliged, nodding. "Do you want to come back to my place after?" 

"What kind of question is that, baby? Of course I do," Celestine replied, licking off a droplet of vanilla cream from his lips, which bowed into a sly grin. "And do what?" 

"...Hm." Nik matched the grin with one of his own. 

"Your bill, sirs," Their waiter returned to them for the final time, a friendly smile on his face. Celestine took a sharp intake of breath, so fast it whistled between his teeth. 

"I, uh…" 

"The wine was on us, sirs. The rest of it wasn't." 

Nik rolled his eyes at the panic in his partner's expression, pulling a stout little leather wallet from his pocket. "Credit, please." 


End file.
